Self-portrait of the artist as a Zombie, and: The Kissing Song
Self-portrait of the artist as a Zombie
But then again, there's the painting, the graffiti of a zombie in black acrylicOn an abandoned building by the old home along with the phrase, Still Alive—I used to jog by its form mirroring function, its derelict branded on derelict,Its meta slowly renovated, transformed from an empty shell into a nest for bees,
A brewery with honey, nectar, the tagged zombie painted over with white. But stillWithin, the folks leering as I ran toward home; my mother not knowing ifI would return alive in that city, that country, that time, another kind of ruin,Threatening to consume me if I stop—In one draft, I do and the abandoned
Building turns me into an abandoned building filled with insects—And yet,In the final frame, a boy who looks like me is standing in the doorway, whileA woman who resembles my mother jerks her hand away from his faceAs it returns to her—Still alive, but cold. [End Page 10]
The Kissing Song
When the white boy kissed my cheek at the houseparty, I had options: act smitten oras if bitten blitz his bold like a southpaw
for the lack of consent and implorean apology—Instead, in that hall,I bared Cheshire teeth like a carnivore
as he fled at my wild and became small—God, I was so fucking fragile back then;that whole week a mad masculine maul,
swearing I could kill if made to feel thin,break any man on the street—But, I couldn't keepit up, and that weekend wept at the bittersweet, of me, him
briefly dear—and made my hand into a mouth, a beakthat kisses every man I meet. [End Page 11]
Bryan Byrdlong is a Haitian/African-American writer from Chicago, Illinois. He was co-recipient of the Merrill Moore Award for Poetry at Vanderbilt University, and his work has been published in the Vanderbilt Review and the Nashville Review. He is currently a Helen Zell Creative Writing Fellow and a 2019 recipient of The Meader Family Award from Hopwood Program at the University of Michigan.
